


Surprise

by andromedacrawley



Series: Filling in the Gaps [4]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Only a little angst this time!, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedacrawley/pseuds/andromedacrawley
Summary: A baby. She glanced down at her stomach, which as of yet had not betrayed her condition. She was going to have a baby. Sybil couldn’t resist smiling. It wouldn’t be just her and Tom anymore— they’d have a baby.
Relationships: Tom Branson/Sybil Crawley
Series: Filling in the Gaps [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812127
Kudos: 27





	Surprise

The queasy feeling had been present for days, something Sybil had staunchly avoided thinking about or even mentioning to anyone. It was nothing, she was sure of it. She rarely was ill— whatever it was, it would pass by with little fanfare.

But it woke her up, mere hours after falling asleep. The moon shone in through their bedroom window, illuminating Tom and herself. Normally, Sybil might have taken the time to admire her handsome husband, but she was more focused on her nausea, the moisture gathering in her mouth.

Soon, it became too much to ignore. Sybil was on her feet, one hand clapped on her mouth, the other stretched in front of her to twist open the door. "Syb?" She heard Tom murmur sleepily before she fled the room, running down their hallway to the bathroom.

She heaved over the toilet, feeling positively wretched. She hoped Tom wouldn't come in, not wanting to disturb him... but her prayers went unanswered when he entered the darkened bathroom, crouching by her side. Sybil retched yet again as Tom murmured, "Oh, my poor darling..."

When she was certain she was finished, Sybil let herself sink to the floor, flushing the toilet. "I'm sorry," she said weakly, feeling as though she had run a marathon.

"Don't apologize." Tom pressed a kiss to her forehead, which was now glistening with sweat. "I'll get you a cup so you can rinse out your mouth, alright?"

Sybil wanted to protest, insist she could do it herself, but at present it seemed simpler to let him do it. She nodded wordlessly, accepting another kiss to the temple before he rose to his feet.

Once they were back in bed, she muttered, "I hope I haven't gotten you sick as well."

"Don't worry about me," insisted Tom, wrapping her in his embrace. She relaxed against him, feeling safe and warm. It was one of her favorite parts of marriage, simply being allowed to share a bed with someone she loved. Sleeping next to him was something she looked forward to, and only days days after marrying him, Sybil had no idea how she could have gone so long without it. "But perhaps you shouldn't go to work tomorrow. You don't want to infect the patients."

Sybil grumbled, hating the idea of missing work. She loved her work... and it was also their biggest source of income. The money from Papa had been spent on the flat, the rest of it was stowed away in case of an emergency. Tom's job at the paper didn't pay much... Still, Tom was probably right, as loath as she was to admit it. "Alright," she relented, snuggling close to him.

Tom kissed the top of her head again, arms wrapping around her tighter before he settled down. She lay awake for several minutes afterwards, even after his breathing had slowed. There was no way she would have ever been able to trade this for the world... if only her younger self could have known how much happiness and love was in store for her, she might have accepted Tom's proposal long before the war had ended.

* * *

"Why are you dressing?" asked Tom, perplexed upon finding her fully attired after he returned to their bedroom after shaving.

"Some people might object to me going to make a call in only my nightgown," Sybil told him cheekily. Strangely enough, she awoke feeling well rested and perfectly fine. It was as if the episode from last night had never happened, aside from a lingering tiredness.

"Are you sure you should be going? I don't mind calling the hospital for you."

Sybil shook her head. "It's alright. I don't mind. I actually feel much better this morning... but I will stay home, just in case it isn't gone yet."

Tom seemed comforted by that addition and Sybil had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Honestly... he could be such a mother hen sometimes! It could be rather annoying, if she was being honest, but other times it could be almost sweet.

After he had dressed for work, Tom accompanied her to the nearest phone booth, where she called Dr. O'Malley at the hospital to inform him of her illness. It was times like these she missed the conveniences of Downton, like having a phone in their own home, especially on rainy days like today. Still, it was something she lived without quite easily... in fact, sometimes Sybil was rather relieved her family couldn't call them at all hours of the day.

"I can walk a flight of stairs myself," she insisted when Tom lead her back to their building.

"I know," Tom said, eyes darting over her nervously. "I just want to help. That's all."

Sybil knew he meant well but right now she was feeling rather stifled. "I'll be fine... and I don't want you being late to work."

"Fine. I'll go." He kissed her once, chastely but with deep longing. Sybil didn't even scold him for increasing his chances of catching her bug, rendered breathless even after they parted. "I'll see you later."

"See you," echoed Sybil, now incapable of coherent thought.

"I love you," he told her with one of his warm smiles, and there was no doubt in her mind that he did. She had never been able to question that, even when she was questioning her own feelings.

"I love you."

She watched him as he walked away, wishing she could join him as she usually did. Sybil loved their morning walks together when she worked the morning shifts, talking about everything and nothing as they did so.

The flat seemed painfully empty without Tom. Sybil felt rather idle as she browsed through books and finished up writing letters to her sisters and mother— Papa had yet to send any of his own, a fact which saddened Sybil. Granny only wrote every once in a while, mostly just asking for updates and such. She hadn't heard from Matthew as recently, either, though she knew it must be quite hard for him to lose Lavinia. Still, she had hoped the divide between him and Mary would repair itself before Mary wedded Carlisle.

Cooking was still a struggle for Sybil— some of her concoctions were hardly edible, though Tom did do his best to swallow it down. Baking was easier— she loved making cakes, but she never seemed to have much opportunity to do so...

But Tom's birthday was only a few days away. Sybil was due to work a night shift Saturday evening and she planned on skipping church on Sunday so she had time to bake him a cake. Her mother-in-law Niamh already knew about her plans, planning on directing him home afterwards instead of to her flat for their Sunday dinners.

Sybil double checked their modest kitchen for all of the ingredients before she ate her own lunch, consisting solely of a sandwich and an apple, though she was wondering if that would be enough. She was unusually ravenous this morning...

When Tom came home with some pies from a local shop, Sybil felt right as rain. "It's passed by now," she assured him, already digging into her dinner, "So I think I can return to work tomorrow."

However, when she woke up in the night again with that intense nausea, Sybil found herself in the same position she had been last night. "But I don't understand," she insisted to Tom, who was already telling her she ought to stay home tomorrow when he tucked her back into bed. "I felt perfectly alright earlier!"

"You must still have it, whatever it is."

Sybil was beyond disgruntled. She already knew Tom was going to try and persuade her to stay home another day, but they really couldn't afford to have her miss any more days of work. "Something I've ate must not be agreeing with me. I have no other symptoms. I'll be fine."

"You and I have ate the same food," Tom reminded her, causing her to scowl. With a sigh of frustration, he said, "Sybil, I know you love your work, but please listen to me and stay home!"

Something about his tone caused her temper to flare. "Don't order me about, Tom! I can do whatever I please!"

His jaw dropped. "That's not what I'm doing at all! I'm just worried about you!"

"Are you really?" she demanded, sick of his coddling. "Or do you just like the idea of me staying home while you go out and make all the money?"

She regretted bringing it up instantly. Tom looked as if she had struck him. It was a touchy subject for them— Until she had ordered him to stop, there had been evenings where he would bemoan his measly salary, insisting that he had meant for things to be like this. With Papa's money, they had a cushion, but without her nursing, Sybil knew their financial situation would be worse off.

"You know I don't think of it like that!" He exclaimed in defense, not bothering to lower his voice. If they were any louder, Sybil suspected any minute or two one of their neighbors would be banging on the walls and complaining about the racket they were making— they had never hesitated to do so before. "If it were only me working, we'd be starving right now! I'm only asking you to take a day off!"

"I've already taken a day off!" She felt close to tears. "I can't just take time off of work for silly little things! It adds up!"

"This isn't something silly!" argued Tom. "This is about your health, Sybil!"

She couldn't take it anymore. Why must he be so— so _stubborn_? Sybil angrily reached for her pillow, tucking it under her arm. "Where are you going?"

"To the couch."

Tom let out a sigh. "Stay here. I'll go out to the couch." Before she could refute anything, he said, "You're the one who isn't feeling well. You ought to stay in the bed where it's comfortable."

Sybil was rooted to the spot, watching Tom gather his pillows and a blanket. She was only able to move once the door closed behind him, when she crawled into the empty bed.

At first, she was glad, the rage still coursing through her veins. Who did he think he was, telling her to stay home? If she had wanted to sit at home all day, she would have married someone else. It wasn't fair for him to ask her to stay home— especially when she had never done so with him. Granted, the sickest he had ever been was a cold he had caught last month, but he had managed to push through it.

When it began fading, Sybil started feeling lonely. She rolled into her side, studying the vacated space left by him. It looked so strange, the flatness of the sheets that she had so often seen curved around him.

It felt wrong, sleeping here without Tom at her side. She had done it plenty of times, after a long shift when he was still working, but that was different. All those times, he was at work or at church, which meant he was busy. But never at night... never when he was in the flat with her.

Sybil reached out, touching the space that Tom had occupied, which still held some of his warmth warm. They'd fought plenty of times since marrying, as two people with strong personalities were always bound to, but neither of them had ever slept on the couch, always making up before it reached that drastic point. Already she regretted things escalating to that point, in spite of how irritated she was by him at present.

She didn't fall asleep until just before the sun began to rise.

* * *

Sybil awoke mid afternoon, astonished when she saw the time on the alarm clock. How hadn't she woken?

When she went to the living room, Tom's pillow was still on the couch. There was note on their kitchen table, written in his hand.

_Sybil—_

_I turned off your alarm so you could sleep in properly this morning. By the time you read this, I'll have already called the hospital to let them know you won't be in again today._

_Please don't think I'm doing this to live out some sort of fantasy of a typical marriage. I love the life we've built together and I would never want it any other way. One of the things I love most about you is how dedicated and passionate you are about your work. The only reason I want you to stay home is because I love you very much and I want you to feel better as soon as possible._

_I know you may be very angry with me for this and perhaps you have the right to be, but I won't apologize for looking after your well-being. I made a promise to love you and look after you, in sickness and in health, and I mean to do that._

_Please rest up today. I hope you are feeling better already._

_Love, Tom_

Sybil wiped her eyes, wondering why she was crying. Tom had composed plenty of notes to her, all of them as beautifully worded as this one, but she hadn't once shed a tear. In fact, Sybil didn't cry easily at all— and when she did, it was rarely because of the written word. Nevertheless, Sybil found herself weeping, running to her bedroom to find a handkerchief.

When Tom came home that evening, he was greeted by a hug and Sybil saying, "I'm sorry."

* * *

Like the previous two nights, Sybil awoke yet again and repeated the same ritual. Tom joined her in the bathroom, doing what he could to help her.

"Perhaps you should go to the hospital," he said as she rinsed out her mouth. "To see the doctor."

"Maybe I should," said Sybil, leaning against the sink. She stared into her reflection, though in the darkened bathroom she was unable to clearly see herself. Nevertheless, she felt disheveled... and tired.

It was a Saturday, so Tom slept in whilst Sybil dressed early in the morning. He looked so peaceful that she dared not wake him.

Sybil felt out of place entering the hospital out of uniform and felt even more awkward sitting in the waiting room. "Nurse Branson!" Dr. O'Malley exclaimed upon meeting her, "I'm quite surprised to see you— I take it your appearance here means we shouldn't be expecting to see you for tonight's shift?"

"I'm ever so sorry for all this," apologized Sybil. "But I can't figure out what's wrong with me."

She told Dr. O'Malley everything, explaining the strange occurrences at night and whatnot. Finally, after a minute or two, the doctor said, "Nurse Branson, I don't wish to embarrass you but... when was the last time you had your cycle?"

Sybil strained back trying to think of what the day had been... only to realize she hadn't had it last month... or the month before that, if she recalled correctly. "Oh," she said, everything suddenly making sense.

"Oh is right," said Dr. O'Malley, smiling. "I take it that it has been over a month?"

"Yes," whispered Sybil, stunned. "Yes, it has."

After a brief examination, Sybil was met with a confirmation that she was, in fact, pregnant. "You can start work again if you would like... but of course, you may stop if you wish—"

"No, I'll keep working," said Sybil, hand resting on her stomach. "I will until it becomes too cumbersome, I promise... but I don't know if I'll be up for the shift tonight," she said apologetically.

"Of course," said Dr. O'Malley, smiling. "Though perhaps we ought to discuss it once you return to work on Tuesday."

"Yes," agreed Sybil, too overwhelmed to be thinking in the big picture as of yet. "Yes, of course."

The doctor congratulated her before sending her on her way, leaving Sybil to walk home in a daze.

 _A baby_. She glanced down at her stomach, which as of yet had not betrayed her condition. She was going to have a _baby_. Sybil couldn't resist smiling. It wouldn't be just her and Tom anymore— they'd have a _baby_.

Sybil was all but skipping as she walked back home, everything suddenly sunnier now that she had this news. She had never anticipated on having a child so soon but she couldn't bring herself to feel upset about it in any way. How could she?

Granted, things would be more difficult now. It would mean more budgeting, less spending, fewer gifts for one another. It would mean buying things for the baby instead... Still, in spite of the hardships that would follow, Sybil felt gleeful.

She was already rehearsing just how to tell Tom when it suddenly occurred to her...

"You're back." Tom greeted her with a kiss the moment she stepped through the door. "Why didn't you wake me? I could have walked along with you."

"I know, but you looked so tired, I didn't want to bother you."

"Nothing you could ever do would bother me," Tom told her. His eyes seemed to scan over her, causing Sybil to wonder if he suspected anything. "What did the doctor say?"

"He said I'll be well enough to return to work in a couple of days," answered Sybil carefully. "Until then, I'm to rest."

Tom nodded before asking if she had ate and their morning commenced, Sybil all the while thinking of where they would fit a child in their small flat.

—

Sybil didn't even have to make any excuses when Tom woke for church the following morning. "I'll be home as soon as possible, I promise," Tom said after he dressed, leaning over the bed to kiss her again. Sybil only deepened it, tugging him down further so his upper body was on top of her, letting her hands rake through his uncombed hair.

"Goodness," breathed Tom once they parted, cheeks flushed. "What was that about?"

"Happy birthday," she said, grinning up at him. When he chuckled, she sat up in the bed. "Did you forget?"

"No," Tom said, sitting down on the bed by her side. "But I've mainly been too worried about about you and your illness to think about such silly things."

"It's not silly, it's your birthday!"

"I know, but can you blame me for being a bit distracted?"

"I suppose not," answered Sybil, leaning in to kiss him again. She hated drawing away from him, but forced herself to say, "Now get ready for church."

"I'd rather stay here," Tom said, eyes darkening and hands now finding themselves on her hips.

"Is that the excuse you'll give your mother and God?" asked Sybil, though truthfully a part of her wished he would stay behind as well. With her "illness", it had been several days since her and Tom had indulged in one another. Still, she wanted her surprise to work. "I'll be waiting for you when you get back— I promise."

It seemed to take a great bit of effort for Tom to finally pry himself from her, but once he had left for Mass, she was on her feet, rushing to the kitchen. Mrs. Patmore's recipe was copied down in a notebook and Sybil spoke to herself as she mixed up the cake. She was relieved once it was in the oven, allowing her the chance to relax and wrap Tom's gift.

She was trying to finish up the frosting when Tom walked through the door. "What's this? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Happy birthday!" Sybil hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry it isn't ready yet, but—"

"What isn't ready yet?"

"Your cake!"

Tom's lips parted. "You're baking me a cake?"

Sybil nodded. "Are you pleased?"

"Very," Tom said, not looking away from her as a slow smile spread across his lips. "But isn't that a little too much?" He started eyeing her with concern. "I don't want you getting too tired."

"Don't worry about me," said Sybil, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was nowhere near as passionate as the ones they had shared that morning but it was effective in distracting him for now. "Now go sit on the couch. I have to fetch your present."

"Very well," Tom said, clearly amused. He walked out to their couch, allowing Sybil time to return to their room.

"I'm sorry it isn't very pretty," she said when she presented him with the gift. "I've never been very good at wrapping things."

"Don't worry about that, darling," Tom said, clearly touched, gazing down at it. The paper crinkled beneath his fingers. He began unwrapping it slowly, revealing a new book she knew he had been eyeing for several months. "You didn't have to get me this!"

"I know... but I wanted to." She accepted his kisses, letting herself fade away until she remembered her cake.

"Do you remember when I made my first cake at Downton?" asked Sybil, placing the still hot cake on the stovetop.

"Of course I do," Tom said, admiring her as he followed her into their kitchen. "That's when I decided to tell you how I felt."

Now it was Sybil's turn to be disarmed that morning, glancing up at him. He was leaned against their countertop, hair messy and arms crossed, looking at her with the utmost love. She wondered how there had ever been a time when they had simply been a chauffeur and a lady... especially since they filled the roles of _husband_ and _wife_ so much better.

"I'm so glad you did," she told him. Without him telling her, would she have ever realized how she felt? Would she have ever allowed herself to dream of a life away from Downton Abbey? Perhaps she might have ended up married to someone like Larry Grey, living in a grand house with his family instead of here, in their flat, with Tom's child inside her...

"I have another gift for you," said Sybil, stepping towards him.

"You do?"

Sybil nodded, now mere inches away from him. Based on the look in his eye, he was expecting her to kiss him... and she very much wanted to. But instead, Sybil reached out, taking Tom's hand in between both of hers, letting her fingertips brush against the callouses on his skin. She didn't watch his face until she brought it to her stomach, meeting his eye. There was nothing but confusion until she told him, "We're going to have a baby."

Tom's eyes widened before gazing down. "We are? Are you sure?" When Sybil nodded, he crashed their lips together. Sybil laughed against his mouth, powerless to stop it. "Oh, my darling..." he gasped as they pulled apart.

Sybil chuckled mirthfully, pleased by his reaction. A particular her had worried he would get too caught up in the logistics to celebrate, but blessedly she was wrong. "I know we wanted to wait a while, but—"

Tom cut her off with another kiss, tears shining in his eyes. "I've never been so happy in my life," he professed, choked up. He looked down at her stomach again, as if he could see their baby already.

"Do you mean it? Really?" Sybil found herself almost moved to tears as well... she supposed it must be the hormones.

"Of course." This time he lifted up their still linked hands, lips connecting her her fingers. "You make me so happy, Syb."

She beamed, winding their fingers together again. "You make me happy, too. I was just thinking about—" Much to her embarrassment, she found herself choked up. Tom looked worried briefly before explained what was going on with her body and the hormones, to which he chuckled with relief. "I was going to tell you how happy I am to be here. To be married to you." His eyes began softening. " _I've_ never been happier."

It was as if they couldn't stop kissing after that, their lips practically attached to one another. Eagerly, Sybil's hand sought out the buttons of his shirt after she had pushed his jacket off his shoulders.

"Is it safe?" Tom asked, somewhat alarmed by his wife's ardor. "For the baby, I mean?"

Sybil lamented the state of education on that front, not blaming her husband in the slightest for his lack of knowledge but society in general. "Perfectly." Their lips let again, this time Tom's hands gripping the skirt of her dress. She pulled away just long enough to grin at him and say, "Consider it another birthday gift."


End file.
